Happiness is a state of breast

Or who’s afraid of gravity?
Pre-Script: I will come back to the abortion ‘topic’ another day. For now I know that Life is the tenure we complete on this planet. Things often happen in a way, which force you to make choices -- if forced, can it still be called choice? -- that you had never considered in your This Will Be My Life plan. So letting sleeping dogs lie (or dead babies, dead?) we shall speak of...Boobs! (click on the pic on left and read the article on pin-up girls.)

If a woman talks about penises and men, it’s called penis envy; what when she talks – like I do – of breasts, incessantly? Boobonic plague?

The under-wired bra is the single, most evil invention meant to constantly denigrate the female body. It is a constant reminder of that which you don’t have, those that were once pert and those which look better on other women. Whether it was God or chemical reactions that lead to the evolution of the human body, Breasts were supposed to hang. Think about it. If breasts were meant to stand on their own or face a different direction (than down south), breasts would come with a set of bones in them. There are 24 ribs to hold the lungs in place (the rib cage); there could easily have been 16 more to mold the breasts and keep them on constant perkiness.

Now women are made to wear their insecurities on their chest. Irrespective of your cup size, you’re always doing something wrong and the bra-tzkreig will get you.

No cleavage? Try the bra with a ‘wow’ effect. HUGE boobs? Try the minimising bra. Saggy boobs? Try the push-up bra. Perfectly normal boobs? Try getting a “fitting” done to make them look even better because Pamela Anderson’s are the most admired boobs, Eva Longoria was the flavour of the season and Lara Croft can tomb raid without jiggling hers. OR, try a lace bra that ‘showcases’ them. Do it for yourself gurl!

Even though I have been generally happy with my breasts I realised that no matter what your boob size, there is always scope for improvement.

Realisation came as I modelled a backless outfit before Partner. Now Partner is usually considerate and particularly smart when it comes to ‘things you say/don’t to a woman’. Perhaps the slip-of-tongue was because he was fiddling with the remote... As I shimmied before him and demanded to know what he thought of the dress – which is usually a cue for any/every man to say he likes the dress – Partner took one look and said, “The dress is nice but if you had smaller boobs, you could have pulled off the bra-less look.”
:(

And THAT pretty much is the truth. Happiness is not a state of mind, it’s a state of breast.
PS: I started thinking boobs (again) after reading ‘Go Fug Yourself’. Reasons hereunder.

The Hindustan Times, published, august 7, 2008

Fab, fad or fugly?
Jhoomur Bose
There are some things in life that are great equalisers and show how despite colour, caste and creed, human beings are pretty much the same the world over. Having a television camera shoved in your face is one such equaliser. It makes people say stupid things.

Like the Los Angeles police commissioner who was on a roll – happens when you put both your feet in your mouth – when speaking to KNBC-TV recently. When asked if the paparazzi was a problem in LA, police chief William Bratton helpfully added, "...since Britney started wearing clothes and behaving; Paris is out of town not bothering anybody anymore, thank God, and evidently, Lindsay Lohan has gone gay, we don't seem to have much of an issue." Er, right, except that Miss Lohan has an issue with the police making comments on people's personal lives and all that.

Unfortunately for Miss Lohan and Like (read, celebrities and celeb wannabes), life only gets more complicated. If the press, paparazzi and Mr Blackwell (of People magazine's Worst Dressed list fame) were not enough, the blogosphere has now unleashed the glamournazi on them. The bloggers who follow celebrity fashion and are adept at deconstructing celeb attires – even those who write on them – thread by thread.

Mrs Tom Cruise, aka actress Katie Holmes – lovingly referred to as 'Tommy Girl' – and fashion columnist/presenter Steve 'Cojo' Cojoruco (E! Entertainment) are the leading slam-icons with Dark Knight actress Maggie Gyllenhaal, making a close second. Pop Hangover declare themselves to be 'pop culture satire with a vengeance' and often list things and people in their 'Suck Files'. Despite questionable satire and too-evident vengeance, at least Pop Hangover is honest: "...the straw man in the Wizard of Oz had nicer hair than Cojo." Truth hurts.

Despite the subtlety-overkill, the glamournazi have a knack for coining new terms. Like D Listed that labels the Angelina Jolie-Brad-Pitt twin-hype as 'Brangeloonism'. The site garners its hit-counts from stating the obvious: "They look like babies. Seriously, just babies. I ran home from the bar for this?" But then, if People (allegedly) paid $ 15 million for the twin-shots, why blame the bloggers?

The cake for mastering anonymous bitchiness though goes to the writer(s) at Go Fug Yourself , who are found on the blogrolls (list of blogs you read) of many a reader and have declared ' fugly is the new pretty'. Fugly by the way, means very ugly.

Take them as authorities on what celebs should be wearing or see them as jealous, disgruntled writers, the glamournazi are sure 'gruntling' many even as they point to the efficacy of underwired bras to Gyllenhaal, "Fear gravity girl, for it does not fear you."